


on the hush-hush

by joisattempting



Series: look over there it's a wild falsettos college au [5]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: ;), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, God i love them so much, I was so excited to write this, I'm so tired, Kinda?, Slow Burn, Unplanned Pregnancy, flangst, is that like a thing now, it gets interesting :0, it's midnight why, it's raining trindel, like reeeeally slow burn, trina has bangs, why is it that all my angst takes place really late at night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 14:48:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21138449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joisattempting/pseuds/joisattempting
Summary: trina tells mendel a secret.





	on the hush-hush

**Author's Note:**

> two posts in one day?? wow sarah you really shouldn't have  
this is the only thing i have motivation for send help  
well sorta one day it's midnight for me oh shit
> 
> comments and kudos mean everything to me! i hope you enjoy!  
alright i'm going the fuck to bed

Mendel couldn’t see. The last hour had zoomed across his vision like a sped-up video. Everything that surrounded him was blurred and hazy. The world spun off its axis as the man tried to fathom the situation. His ugly drapes were open, the cold moonlight sneering at him through the window. Birds and owls spoke stridently on the looming, ancient trees outside, not being of much help to Mendel’s throbbing head. Ticking bombs exploded in his head, one after another. The more he thought about it, the more he tried to grapple with the weight of everything, the more he tried to find solutions, the more confused he only became. 

Because there was someone else in his room, too. Someone had knocked and, once certain the two of them were alone, wore themselves thin with crying. She’d sobbed and wailed and screamed so much that a specific soft, careful voice began to wane. Now she lay silently in Mendel’s lap, shoulders and lip quivering with every breath. Her hair was in a bun again, but time and anguish had practically pulled it apart. Puffy cheeks were scarlet in colour and stained with tears. Remnants of the hot, salty water could be found on her short, curly eyelashes. Trina clutched Mendel’s arm to her chest, her free hand limp and dangling over the side of the bed. She held a hunk of plastic in that hand. Loosely, like she wanted to let go. It was clean as of yet, but she’d peed on it that afternoon. 

“Does Marvin know?” Mendel said gently. Questions were crammed into his brain. So many, that his head hurt even more just thinking about them. He shouldn’t pry, goddamnit. If he was feeling the way he was, only God knew how much bewilderment and stress and utter fear filled every inch of her body. College savings, food, clothes, schooling. It made Mendel want to scream, because, to put it mildly, nobody of her age should have to give two fucks about those things. Their generation had finals to stress over, terrible dates to go on, sleazy clubs to sneak into. But Mendel hadn’t met Trina yesterday. Based on her pessimistic, worrier-like ways, the arrival of this new, alive, breathing person was sure to tip her over the edge. She wouldn’t sleep. Slowly she’d grow thinner and thinner, because of how many times she’d skipped meals running circles around a fussing child. But the fact that it all was so real, and all this could actually happen gave Mendel a horrible, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Yes,” she choked out. Telling Marvin that this child’s belonged to him was like putting all her worst nightmares into one hellish mess. They were alone in his apartment - the others were in their respective lessons and lectures. She’d rehearsed the words she wanted to get out, the point she wanted to make, but somehow she came up short, stuttering on almost every word like she always did when she got nervous, her paper of notes crumpling to the ground like a dead body and tears spilling from her eyes. Trina was certain she’d never forget his face. How his piercing blue gaze never wavered from her, and the little hairs on his arms stood as straight and rigid as pencils. His hands were shaking, itching to form fists and punch the girl that had the nerve to stand before him and inform him of what he’d done. At first his voice was somewhat controlled, tense and taut. Then he’d screamed until the neighbours banged on the ceiling with a broom and the lampshades on the tables shook like leaves. 

She didn’t need telling twice when asked to leave. 

Why was it so different with Mendel? Why did he want to get to know her her, not use her for sex and not dismiss her as some kind of verbal punching bag? Why didn’t he spit vile names at her and tell her to get out of his sight? 

Why?

“Wants me t-to get r-rid of it,” she stammered, harshly scrubbing at her eyes. Mendel took her hands in his, gently squeezing them.

“Don’t do that, you’ll hurt your eyes,” he mumbled. “Are you going to?” 

“No,”

“Sit up for me?” 

She was grateful he didn’t pry. One could only imagine how many burning questions ate at him from the insides. She’d want to know everything, too, if someone she was acquainted with was pregnant at such an age. It wasn’t hard to understand. But her heart couldn’t help but lift just that little bit when she realised that he was trying to understand her. His mind was set alight as he tried to wrap his head around it, she could tell. Marvin hadn’t tried to understand, hadn’t stayed silent while reality slapped his face. Everything was red, and he could only cry out in frustration and confusion and terror. 

Mendel shifted an inch closer to her, never once letting go of her hand. A tiny, sad, apologetic smile played about his lips. He reached out a hand and pushed her bangs out of her eyes. His eyes were apologising, even though his mouth wasn’t. Why him? He hadn’t been careless enough to do this to her. At least Mendel had a shred of decency to not thrust a child into her world when she was trying to get her degree. Did he feel sorry for her? Marvin didn’t feel sorry for her. But, if this child was going to be born, Trina wouldn’t let its father ship it off to some other family. It didn’t belong to anyone else.

“Your bangs have grown,” he observed. 

Trina shook the remaining hair from her eyes. “I’m growing them out,”

Frowning, Mendel tilted his head. “Why?” 

“Marvin doesn’t like them,”

And he was on his feet. Trina furrowed her brows as she watched the man root through his drawers and his backpack like a mole in a cave. She was smiling, sort of - why was she smiling? Trina supposed it was because of the way he got all flustered when he couldn’t find something. How he’d blow out a sigh and run a hand tiredly down his face. The way he’d mess up his hair from all the times he’d drag his fingers through it. Mendel was scatterbrain of the century, in the most endearing way. He couldn’t locate anything, not even in his own cramped dorm room. It made Trina laugh. Not a lot could do that these days. Eventually, he joined her on his bed again, with its checkered blue sheets that smelled like detergent. In his hand, he clutched a small pair of scissors.

She didn’t say anything when he fingered her long bangs and cut them short again. 

“Much better,” he said, arranging the shortened hair on her forehead. “You look like a princess,”

Awkwardly, Trina smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She couldn’t help but imagine herself as the princess Mendel spoke of, all alone in a tall, stone tower. All the princess stories she’d heard as a girl talked about how much she longed to leave her tower and explore the wide world around her. That part had always confused her. If she were a princess, she’d rather be locked up, safe and sound, than venture out into a twisted, dark world of wrongdoing and complication and pain. Of course, the entire point of the story was based on their adventures with creatures, villains, princes, and the like. But why put yourself in mortal peril when you could literally prevent anything dangerous happening? In some cases, putting the world at risk? No, it was a far wiser choice to stay behind. These princesses should take notes. 

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” Mendel didn’t stop, rambling on about her warm eyes and how soft her straight locks were. He wasn’t joking. He knew she thought herself plain, her features dull and Jewish. But Mendel’s eyes were different. She looked almost ethereal, even in her current state, with her hair coming down and her eyes red and bleary. But it was natural. No makeup or curling irons to hide behind. Just Trina. Trina and her bangs and her snub little nose and the sprinkling of freckles that dotted her cheeks and nose like pointillism art. He wondered how she was under the impression that she was even a little bit plain.

“Did Marvin ever tell you how pretty you are?”

“Once,” she remembered. High school, at the prom of their senior year. Everything was wonderful then. Marvin had seen the light at the end of the tunnel, and his disorder was mostly taken care of. He still sought help in a therapist, and bad days still crept upon him at the worst of times, but he was doing better. Exams were over, and they were ready to put high school behind them. Trina had dressed up for the occasion. Why not let her daughter live a little, her mother had thought. She remembered blushing and giggling at her date’s compliment, and their conjoined hands swung as they walked out to Whizzer’s car, where he and the lesbians awaited them. They’d been voted prom king and queen. And Trina was happy. For a fleeting moment, she was happy.

“Well, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world,” Mendel went on. “And I don’t need a psychiatry degree to tell you that,” 

They fell back onto the bed, hugging and laughing and wiping away tears. 

It was like being prom queen all over again.


End file.
